


Letters From A Stranger

by Golden_Grass



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Carlos forgets Night Vale, Carlos gets a note card in his mail, M/M, and incidently Cecil, and it starts a friendship between him and a "stranger", anyway, but then, is this idea even a movie, not a sad-fic, oh well, what a jerk :/, what are you gonna do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-18 08:06:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1420825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Golden_Grass/pseuds/Golden_Grass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos has a nice apartment in the city with a normal life. It's nice, even if he can't remember anything that he should. </p>
<p>"The first one is simple and confusing at the same time.<br/>The second one has more of an explanation.<br/>The third one comes in about three days after the one Carlos sent disappeared."</p>
<p>In which Carlos receives letters from a stranger who may not be a stranger but just strange.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Letters From A Stranger

_**Letters from a Stranger** _

 

The first one is simple and confusing at the same time.

_'I'm sorry_ ' it reads. Carlos doesn't understand it though. He found it at the bottom of his mailbox, with no address or anything, but the two words written in purple ink (or... is that blood?) on a note card; except that the note card didn't have a lined side. There was nothing to indicate who made the letter, when, or why.

 

 

The second one has more of an explanation.

_'You should try to find someone you like. A nice guy.'_ It reads, in the same sprawled handwriting and purple ink (Carlos is so leaning towards ink because who actually has purple blood and uses it to write with) on a note card. Okay, this person -- whoever they are -- is creepy. One, they're able to put this in his mailbox without him or anyone else noticing (he assumes the person put the letter in by hand, unless there's a some secret mailman organization going on). Two, they know he's gay. It's not, per se, as if he hides his sexuality - but he doesn't flounce it either. And what's this person trying to do? Hook him up with someone? But then Carlos thinks, and this is out of no where, mind you, that maybe he should write back. So he takes a note card, and puts _'Oh? And where would I meet said guy?_ ' He places it in his mailbox, with nothing else to go on.

The next day he checks his mailbox before the mailman gets here, and surprisingly enough, the note card is gone. It just vanished. Does he have a stalker now? Maybe he should call Steve. Carlos can't recall what Steve looks like clearly, only in passing memory. But that's what his memory has been like lately - passing. He can't remember when he moved into his apartment, just that he's lived in it. Or when he started working at his company. He _should_ remember that. It _should be an important event_ that he _should remember_. But every time Carlos tries to wrap his head around it, his memory becomes even foggier. The memories start to fill with a haze of lies and weird images. Repeated images, too. Most of the time there is a man. Not tall nor short, not big nor skinny. Just average. Sometimes, he can remember a pizza place. No name, just that he always seemed to be by it. On other occasions there's a gate. A large gate with a sign. The words are all a blur but two - _'Dog Park'_. It's seems normal, normal enough that Carlos can pass it off as his forgotten hometown. If people do forget their own hometowns nowadays.

 

 

The third one comes in about three days after the one Carlos sent disappeared. Not that anyone's counting. Carlos finds it laying at the bottom of his mailbox, as it always does, with the same type of paper it's always written on.

_'Perhaps a park or a restaurant. How about walking around town? Maybe you can find someone who sparks your interest.'_ It reads. Carlos smiles at that one. He takes out a note card he has -- perhaps he should get more, he just never intended to use note cards every again -- and a pen and starts to think. He really shouldn't trust this guy. Or person. Whoever. _'Or whatever',_ his mind says. He swats that saying away, and takes out his phone.

Steve is the only guy he can think of to trust. He doesn't know why, by it seems like all his trust (if he has some) is better used on Steve.

"Hello?" Someone answers on the third ring.

"Hi Steve, it's me, Carlos."

"It's about time. What's up?" Steve asks, all nonchalantly. It's irritating, in a way. ' _But that's rude. Why am I even irritated?'_ Carlos asks himself. He shakes his head.

"Hey, so, listen," Carlos starts, "I've been getting these notes."

"Uh-huh. What kind of... notes?" Steve asks cautiously.

"Just- I don't know.” Carlos says exasperatingly. “They seem random, at least a little. But the weird part is, they don't have an address on them." Carlos answers, looking at the three note cards he's obtained.

“Interesting. So what did you do?"

"I replied back."

" _What?_ " Steve asks.. "Carlos Carlos _Carlos_! Do you know how dangerous that it? You could have a freaken stalker and you reply to him." Steve rants on and sighs. Carlos shrugs, but then remembers that Steve can't see him.

"I was wondering if you knew who they were from." Carlos said.

"What do they say?" Steve asks. Carlos looks the three note cards he has.

"The first one says 'I'm sorry'." Carlos responds.

"I'm sor- Oh. Oh." is all Steve says.

"Oh? Oh?! Oh what?" Carlos demands.

"He must of taken it the wrong way." Carlos can hear Steve mutter.

"Take what the wrong way?"

"Listen Carlos, I have to, uh, probably go. Bye." Steve says and hangs up.

"Probably?” Carlos tries to ask, but Steve already hung up. “Fine." Carlos hangs up. Always knew he was a jerk.

Carlos gets back to the note card and thinks.

_'I'm not looking for anyone. A scientist is self-reliant.'_ Carlos puts. It's true. He puts the card on the bottom of his mailbox and goes on with his life.

 

 

It has been- well, what? Counting the note cards is a little tedious. Besides, it's not as if Carlos _purposely_ keeps track of how many he has, so. Let's just say 12. By the 12 th note card the mysterious stranger is finally able to reveal his name.

_'Cecil.'_ It reads. Carlos looks at the words. Sometimes he stares at the note card, because it sounds like someone he should know, someone who's close to him, and yet nothing comes up. He certainly doesn't know _this_ Cecil. This Cecil who wears furry pants and loves the radio. He could have a friend named Cecil. He should ask Steve about this. But, well. Steve's a jerk (like he has _always_ been) and he keeps saying _boring_ things like _'Don't reply to the stranger'_ and ' _If I offered you free Jolly Ranchers and told you that you could have them if you hopped into the car, then would you?_ '. The last one was quite tempting, to be honest, as long as they were the blue ones. He was even about to say that, but stopped himself before he could. Can't let Steve know his weakness. Carlos puts the note card down and rubs his eyes tiredly. Maybe this is a chance to greet formally. _'Hello. My name is Carlos and I like Raspberry Jolly Ranchers.'_ Or maybe not.

 

The next letter comes in just a day. It's actually kind of weird. Either Carlos is really busy and time is flying past, or the person is just really eager to respond... so they do in a day. Time is weird.

_'Hello, Carlos. I used to be a boy scout when I was younger. Also, I wasn't very fond of Jolly Ranchers before, but I am now.'_ The note card reads. Carlos can't help but smile at that one. Lately he's been smiling at the other cards he's been getting, too. He doesn't know if that's a sign to stop replying or keep going.

 

 

He's so curious. He can't help it. A human is curious by nature. It's just what they are! It's been four months, and Carlos doesn't even know where Cecil lives. He _assumes_ that Cecil lives in his town, but hey. Assumptions can be wrong. So Carlos takes a note cards, and one if his favorite pens, and asks, _'Where do you live?'_ in neat letters on the lines. He puts it in his mailbox and hopes for the best.

 

The note cards comes in two weeks after Carlos asked the question, and he was starting to worry that he did something wrong. But then, as the previous days have gone, as he's shifting through his mail (he started getting into the habit of looking at the bottom first, but broke the habit a few days ago) at the bottom is a note cards with purple ink sprawled in the middle.

_'Night Vale'_ is all it reads.

Night Vale. Now that rings a bell. Wait a second. That- this. _Night Vale_. Before Carlos knows it, he passes out.

 

His memories all come back in vivid detail. He got to Night Vale. He went to the apartment right next to Big Rico's. He met a radio host- the one that he saw before in the blurry memories. He... He died. The Carlos from a month ago would have laughed at that. What are the odds of him, of all people, _dying_ and coming back to life? He sat on his car hood with the radio host (that could be dangerous!). Not just a radio host, though. Cecil. Cecil is his name. Cecil is his boyfriend. And their conversation, god, he should have realized something was off in the beginning.

 

_' "And why do you have to leave Night Vale?" Cecil asks. His voice is unsettling. It's starting to go to Radio Voice._

_"I need to check a few things there." Carlos explains. "I had an apartment with some things I didn't think I would need but I should probably get now. Also, I should probably tell the owner that I'm moving out.”_

_"And you need to leave?" Cecil asks, but it's only above a whisper and strained. Carlos inclines his head._

_"Yes, but only for a week." he responds. They should have been over this already. The radio host nods his head meekly._

_“Would I. Well, could I have your address?” Cecil asks._

_“Sure, I guess. Don't know why you would need it but okay.” Carlos agrees. He puts his apartment address down on a piece of paper with a totally-not-an-ink-pen-or-writing-utensil-that's-banned and gives it to Cecil._

_“There you go.” Carlos says with a grin. Cecil smiles back weakly and grips the piece of paper tightly._

_“Thanks.” Cecil mutters.'_

 

Carlos wakes with a jolt as a light shines in his left eye.

“Oh darn, you're awake.” a voice says. Carlos can see a blurry image get up from above him and lend a hand.

“Glad to see you too, Steve.” Carlos mumbles as he rubs his head and gets up. “What are you doing here?”

“Cecil gave me a call. Warned me about what he wrote. So I called you, but you didn't pick up.” Steve shrugs. “So I came to your house and what do I find? You sleeping on the floor.”

“I was _not_ sleeping on my _floor_!” Carlos denies as he stands up. Steve just chuckles and turns around.

“Well, if you're okay, then I'm leaving.” he says. Before Steve gets out the door though, Carlos stops him.

“Wait,” Carlos says. “I,” Carlos takes a deep breath, “I want to go back to Night Vale.” Steve pauses in the doorway, before turning his head a little.

“We leave tomorrow, be ready when I come and get you.” is all Steve says and leaves. Carlos can hear the elevator ding and the mechanisms of the door as it opens and closes, before he plops down on his couch and sighs. Soon he will be home at last.

 

 

By the morning Carlos has packed everything that is his and leaves a note with his landlord about his living situations now. Carlos assumes that he can't just leave, but he left his phone number just in case the landlord has problems and left it at that.

Steve comes around midday and they leave. Just like that. Steve is the one who drives while Carlos accounts for all of his memories. Right from seeing the sign that says _'_ _**Welcome to Night Vale** _ ', like he sees right now.

 

 

Once Carlos gets back home he immediately goes into the arms of his radio host who was waiting in their shared house for him to return. They hug, and Cecil strokes Carlos' hair.

“Welcome back, Carlos.” Cecil murmurs into Carlos' ear, and Carlos has never been happier to be where he is right now in Night Vale.

 

-The End-

 

**Author's Note:**

> You could totally kudos and maybe comment hey that would be neat, I guess.  
> So I haven't been able to think of any plots but I wanted to make a story for my friend since she let me read one of hers and this idea came and I like it.  
> And oh my god just think of Carlos and Cecil sticking out their tongues and they have blue jolly ranchers on them and their tongues are blue and they're smiling or maybe Cecil just finding wrappers around the lab because Carlos eats them all the time or Carlos just having a sweet tooth and I would draw that bUT I CAN'T T^T  
> I could totally make a story from Cecil's point of view if anyone wants it. If not, then, well.


End file.
